Closing Two Eyes
by Emrys1
Summary: Sheppard falls through a floor, and then the fun really starts! Shep whump! Originally published in Jumper Two in 2007. Spoilers up through Season 2...specifically for the episode "Trinity".
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This was originally published in the zine, ****Jumper Two**** which was published by Agent With Style in 2007. K Hanna Korossy and Brate were the two organizers of this zine, and I truly can't say enough good things about them! They made my first venture into zinedom a breeze! Thanks to you both! Em.**

Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis doesn't belong to me, and I'm not receiving any monetary benefits from this story. The series belongs to MGM and Sci-Fi and a lot of other people much more interesting than me!

Closing Two Eyes

Emrys

'_To find a friend one must close one eye; to keep him, two.' ~~Norman Douglas_

When John comes back to himself, all he knows for a little too long is the pressure that lies along the entire surface of his chest. It's close to pain but not quite, and, really, the worst part of the whole situation is that he can neither move nor catch his breath.

He opens his eyes, and the world is tilted and whirled, and he has to concentrate in order to bring it back into focus. When he does, he is confronted with an image that doesn't quite make sense until he realizes he's lying flat on his back. The multiple arches that are in his line of view are part of the ceiling, and the darkness up there bordered by broken tiles is actually the hole through which he fell.

He doesn't quite remember the fall, just the initial, sudden loss of anything solid beneath his feet and then the vague sensation of air floating by his face. But between that hazy memory and the evidence that lies around him, the only conclusion he can come to is that he actually did fall through the floor of the upper level. And now he's lying on his back as the occasional tile plummets and shatters on the floor around him. Dust motes float in the barely illuminated air, and he coughs when his restricted lungs finally decide to complain about the grime he's breathing into them.

He tries to move again, and now the pain decides to reveal itself. It's primarily screaming in his chest, and suddenly he really needs to stop coughing. But that's not working because his lungs are still pretty pissed at him, and before he can figure out why he's in so much pain, black spots are replacing the image of the ornately gilded yet broken ceiling, and suddenly he's going away from himself again.

oOo

Rodney's more than a little irritated when he turns around and realizes Sheppard has wandered away from him. In fact, he's getting on to pretty goddamn furious when he starts calling and there's no hide nor freaky, spiky hair of the colonel anywhere in the general vicinity. And he's pretty justified in his fury since he's been left all alone in the western wing of the creepy, albeit beautiful, palace. It's creepy because it's dark and empty, but it's beautiful because someone put a lot of effort into making it so. Even Rodney is enough of an aesthete to recognize the splendor of the palace. In fact, before Sheppard had gotten himself missing, Rodney was wondering if the Taj Mahal—which he has never actually visited but still knows enough about to have an opinion—would cower in or rival the glory of this structure.

But right now, he's finished appreciating the splendor of the arched architecture, mosaic floors, and calligraphy-inscribed walls. Right now he's pissed, because Colonel Pain-in-the-Ass, who has been just that throughout this entire mission, has suddenly drifted off somewhere. And now Rodney's left all by himself, and he's not only going to have to protect himself from whatever is lurking in the numerous dark corners, but he's also going to have to find the wayward colonel.

And, although he's not willing to admit it to himself, there is a small part of him that's really freaking out, because Sheppard has been acting weird since they exited the stargate. And as angry as Rodney is, the suspicions of that small part of him are being confirmed right now, because there is no fucking way a hale and healthy Sheppard would _ever_ let Rodney out of his sight.

And yet here Rodney is, left to his own limited physical defenses, and so something sure as hell is really wrong.

Suddenly, his radio squawks, then the welcome sound of Teyla's voice floats into his ear.

"Colonel Sheppard? Rodney? Can you hear me?"

"Of course I can hear you," Rodney snaps into his radio. There's a strange scratching noise emanating from somewhere in the room, and as his heart rate quickens, he squints into the gloom in an attempt to quickly discern what could be the cause of the sound.

"I am sorry, Rodney, but I have been trying to contact you for some time and have been unsuccessful in doing so until now. Are you all right?" There is more than a little concern in Teyla's radio-transmitted voice, and it momentarily distracts Rodney from the creepy sound that had been made by something in the equally creepy room.

"Huh, maybe the signal that's screwing up the Ancient technology is beginning to affect our instruments as well," Rodney mutters into his headset.

He stumbles closer to where he thinks the eerie sound had come from and sees that a shutter is open on one of the highest windows in the room. While he watches it, the shutter slides across the wall and makes the same scritch-scratching sound he heard before. He wipes his hand across his sweat-lined forehead and revels in the palpable relief he feels.

"I'm fine, Teyla. It's just, the colonel has wandered off. I was about to go look for him," Rodney says, and is pleased when he keeps the quaver out of his voice.

"That is very unlike Colonel Sheppard. Is something wrong with him?" Teyla asks, and Rodney can almost hear her eyebrows knitting together.

"My thoughts exactly," he replies and then turns on the life-signs detector. No time like the present to begin seeking out the colonel.

"Be careful, Rodney. Sections of the building are unsound," Teyla warns, and there's obvious exertion in her voice.

"Why? What's wrong? What's happened now?" he asks in a staccato burst, and risks a look at the life-signs detector. There's a faint signal, but Rodney pauses before following it.

"As I said, some areas of the palace are unstable," Teyla answers. "Ronon fell through a staircase and is injured. I think it wise to return him to Atlantis."

"Injured?! Injured how?" Rodney asks, suddenly afraid to move.

"I believe he has broken his arm. He is also bleeding badly from a deep cut on his leg," Teyla reports. As Rodney pictures her supporting an injured Ronon, the effort in her tone suddenly makes sense.

"Huh. Bet the big guy's happy about that," he comments absently. He is rewarded with Ronon's irate growl in his ear that clearly conveys just how unhappy the Satedan is with the situation.

"Is the colonel far from where you are located now?" Teyla asks.

"Not far," Rodney confirms. "Listen, there aren't people or Wraith or any other weird forms of life here. Just a lot of dust and fancy architecture. You bring Ronon to the gate since you're closer to it than you are to me. I'll find the colonel and meet you there." Rodney is trying to sound cavalier, but since he's literally shaking in his boots, he's not quite sure how well he's pulling it off.

There's a pause before Teyla answers with obvious displeasure. "Are you sure that this is a good idea, Rodney? Something is not right about this place, and the colonel was acting strangely before. I am worried."

At this point, Rodney is far past worried, but they really don't have too much of a choice. It's either go in search of the colonel or leave him behind, and since the thought of leaving Sheppard behind makes McKay slightly nauseated, his only real option is to become a one-man search party.

"Of course I'm not sure! This place is seriously creeping me out, but when have we ever had the chance to follow the _good_ ideas?" he asks with more than a little sarcasm lacing his tone. "Teyla, I don't really have a choice. I can't leave him behind, and we both know you won't leave Ronon behind."

"I'll be fine! Leave me here!" Ronon grumbles into his radio, and it's not difficult to hear the pain in the big warrior's tone.

"That's right, you giant hairball! Play the hero!" Rodney yells into his own radio, suddenly feeling even angrier with the situation than he was before. "Then we'll all be separated. One missing team member is enough. Don't listen to him, Teyla, I'll be fine. I've got a strong life sign for Sheppard, and I'll make sure to duck when I find him just in case he's acting 'strange' enough to take a swing at me."

Ronon begins to protest, but his voice is becoming increasingly weak. Rodney carefully walks forward, following the colonel's life sign. There's no sign of an unstable structure beneath his feet, so he continues on into a broad hallway that is lined on both sides by intricately carved marble walls.

"Just be careful, Rodney. We'll meet you both at the gate."

"Yes, yes, of course you will," Rodney mutters, his thoughts already sidetracked by his need to find Sheppard. "See you later."

After that, it's quiet for some time until Rodney tries to contact John via radio. No answer is returned other than the echo of his own voice as it bounces from one tall marble wall to another.

"What the hell?" he asks out loud as he notices that the colonel's signature is one floor beneath him.

One floor beneath him and completely not where it's supposed to be. Rodney can't seem to shake off another surge of anger Although it's true the colonel displayed uncharacteristic irritation toward his team members within minutes of exiting the stargate, putting so much distance between himself and Rodney is way too far past the point of acceptable, bordering on absolutely insane behavior.

Despite the intensity of his fury, Rodney cautiously continues onward to find the source of the life sign and of his anger.

The mission began as a standard recon job, and Sheppard showed typical eagerness to begin a new adventure. But not a quarter of an hour after leaving Atlantis, he started treating his teammates like pariahs and acting almost as if he were trying to escape their company. In fact, Sheppard was the one to suggest they split up to search the palace, despite the fact they knew very little about the place. And when even Teyla hinted such a course of action could prove dangerous, Sheppard immediately became disproportionately angry. He ordered the separation, and Rodney, none-to-happy with the turn of events, was forced to follow the colonel through the eastern wing of the palace.

McKay wasn't entirely pleased to be left alone with the irate colonel and was prepared to tell him just that when he noticed his Ancient equipment beginning to falter. He became distracted by the simple technical glitch and consequently fixed it with minimum effort. But apparently taking his attention away from Sheppard was a mistake, because when he looked up from his repair work, he found the colonel gone.

And now, said colonel is a floor beneath him, and Rodney is royally pissed.

He assuages his anger by vowing not to miss the opportunity to tell Sheppard exactly what he thinks of him this time around.

oOo

When John wakes up again, he's midway to coughing up another lungful of pain and dust. The light is different, darker and yet brighter at the same time. The ceiling is now just a shadowed impression of mosaic arches, and the broken spot isn't really discernible from the rest of it. Yet a flash of blue-white light crosses over it in abrupt beams of clarity, and he thinks maybe something is going seriously wrong with his vision.

John closes his eyes again in an attempt to clear them and tries to draw a deep breath. A stab of pain along his sternum makes the effort useless, so instead he concentrates on taking shallow breaths and maybe moving an arm or a leg or, hell, maybe just a big toe.

As he's feeling relief for being able to wriggle his right foot a little bit, a strange squawking noise begins, sounding as if it's coming from very far away. His brow wrinkles in confusion, and he tries again to open his eyes and make sense of his surroundings.

The splash of brightness still staggers its way across the ceiling, and its source slowly becomes visible.

It's a flashlight that is shaking wildly in the hands of Rodney McKay, and John's suddenly so relieved, he verges on passing out again. He resolutely forces back the shadows that threaten to spill over him and concentrates on his breathing. It's still painful to draw breath, but he does it anyway, and soon he's able to focus a little better on the physicist.

Rodney is stumbling his way toward him, and he's yelling into the radio at the same time. John can't understand what the man is saying, but McKay is obviously pissed. Not just a little pissed, but mightily pissed. There's fear in Rodney's eyes and a grim set to his jaw; whatever has the physicist pissed off is actually important and not something minor. Because, although it's true that practically anything can set McKay off, it's only when he's mentally calculating odds of survival that he gets such a panicked look in his eyes.

Rodney trips, and then, bringing with him an upwelling of disturbed dust, he's at John's side. John tries to smile but coughs instead. In response, Rodney starts yelling louder into his radio, but everything still sounds blurry and so far away to John.

But when Rodney begins pulling and straining at something that is somewhere in the vicinity of John's torso, things clear right the hell up. John can't immediately see what McKay is struggling with, but whatever it is causes more pain to burst in his chest. This latest torture is simultaneously crushing and suffocating him, and he wants to jerk up and away from it but can't. Instead he yelps, and as adrenaline courses through his body along with the agonizing sensations, the world is suddenly crystal clear.

As the pain intensifies, he wishes for the return of the foggy feeling of before. When his breath begins to stutter, he thinks his wish is actually going to be granted. But then he hears Rodney swear loudly, and suddenly the pain diminishes and John can breathe again. He takes in a few shaky breaths and closes his eyes as a tight ball of nausea begins to build in his gut.

He's almost unconscious when Rodney grabs his hand and jolts him back into his new, pain-filled reality.

"What the hell is the matter with you?!" Rodney is yelling very loudly into his face. "Why the hell would you leave me alone in that creepy room?! Even twelve-year-olds at camp know you never leave your goddamn buddy!"

Things continue on in that vein for some time, and John lets Rodney blow off a little steam. But after too long, he feels himself getting irritated and strikes back. "I didn't…leave you alone," he gasps out, and talking is harder than he expected. But the words need to be said because, although he actually really can't remember what the hell happened, he would _never_ leave Rodney on his own. Never. Ever. It just isn't something he's physically capable of doing.

"I hate to disagree, but that's exactly what you did!" Rodney's yell is scathing, but Sheppard recognizes the look of hurt behind the other man's eyes. Whatever actually did happen, Rodney's upset, and it's no use arguing with him right now.

"I can't move," John says, because it's the only thing he can think to say that's more important than addressing the fact he may or may not have broken a cardinal rule and abandoned Rodney.

"Of course you can't move! You fell through the floor and now you've got a significant portion of it sitting on your chest."

"Well then…get me…out of here," John insists after he's had a moment to process Rodney's words. He twists his neck painfully and for the first time is able to glance down at himself. Rodney's right. There's a lot of debris on and around him, but what's really alarming is the size of the floor beam and masonry currently pressing down on his torso. There's no way Rodney is going to be able to move it on his own. "Oh," he says after a moment, and he moves his head to look grimly at his companion.

"Yeah. Oh," Rodney replies wearily, then settles on the floor beside John. "I tried to move that beam but couldn't lift it. And then some of the other junk began shifting and that seemed to hurt you. I didn't want to make things worse," he explains, pointing to the monstrous object that has John effectively pinned.

John suddenly understands where the crushing pain from before originated. McKay brushes some of the dust and grime away from John's face, and John is suddenly so thankful for the human contact that he's willing to concede the argument about who left whom.

"You and Ronon appear to share similar abilities when it comes to falling through floors," Rodney comments grimly, then, spurred on by Sheppard's alarmed expression, adds, "Don't worry, he's going to be fine. Teyla's taking him back to the gate, and as soon as she can make contact with Atlantis, she'll tell Elizabeth we need an engineering team here to get you out. But Teyla and Ronon weren't close to the planet's gate when I talked to her, so it's going to be a little while. Feel up to some quality time?"

John snorts an abrupt laugh, and his breath catches in his chest as the pain flares again.

"What? What, what, what? What's the matter with you?" Rodney's in a sudden panic, and as much as Sheppard would like to reassure him, he's incapable of doing so. The pain is just so bad, and it's taken his breath away. The black spots come back into view and begin waltzing about, but he forces himself to calm down and somehow manages to keep hold of consciousness. After a while, he's able to take a few cautious breaths, and he lies still and allows himself to benefit from the respite.

The squawking is back, and he blearily looks over to see Rodney furiously pacing and yelling into his radio headset again. After a moment, a wave of words flows over John. Rodney is talking to Teyla, and he's freaking out. It takes John another moment to realize Rodney's freaking out about him, and it's more than a little while before he's able to find the right words to end the drama that is Rodney McKay in full-out terror mode.

"Rodney…calm down. 'M al…all right."

It's just the barest of whispers, but Rodney pauses in mid-rant and kneels by John's side again.

"Something's wrong with his breathing," Rodney says slowly, and John is confused until he realizes McKay is reporting his condition to Teyla via the radio. "It may have something to do with the fact that half the ceiling is currently sitting on his chest, but I'm just hypothesizing here," he adds sarcastically, obviously in response to something the Athosian asked and which he deems a stupid question.

"She…needs to understand…th—" Sheppard tries to defend Teyla, who, if he remembers correctly, has her own set of problems, but then he runs out of words when he runs out of breath again.

"I know, I know, I know. I'm sorry, Teyla," Rodney says, and John doesn't know if the apology is in response to something Teyla has said or to John's mucked-up defense of her. "It's just, well, he's really bad. You need to hurry."

John's breath stutters, and Rodney's attention switches back to him.

"They're coming. You just need to hang on for a little while. Keep breathing, you know? Don't die."

John wants to laugh because Rodney's being pretty damn funny right now, but instead he conserves the breath and draws it into his lungs. All the air he's pulling in seems stale and too hard-won.

His eyes draw closed. John just wants to sleep, rest, recharge his nearly drained batteries, but Rodney absolutely refuses to let that happen.

"Hey! Oh, no, no, no, no. You need to stay awake, colonel. C'mon. Wakey, wakey," Rodney says, and John feels a hand patting his face. Rodney is being as gentle as he possibly can given how god-awful graceless he is, but it feels like someone is sucker-punching him.

"Cut it out," John rasps. He'd like to push Rodney's hand away, but it seems as if his arm is pinned beneath the rubble that has the rest of his body trapped. Just to reassure himself, he tries to move his right foot again and is inordinately relieved when it still responds.

"Then open your eyes, Colonel," Rodney says and pats John's face again.

"Rodney!" John says in an annoyed tone, but he opens his eyes just like he's been asked. As soon as he does, he wishes Rodney would let him close them again, because his head abruptly starts pounding.

"Do you have any pets, Sheppard?" Rodney asks.

John is disoriented enough that the non sequitur doesn't really bother him all too much. "Dog. Had…a dog when I was…a kid," he mutters and really wishes he could shift just a little bit so the damn floor beneath his ass could press uncomfortably on other parts of his body for a while.

"I have a cat. Well, I had a cat. I gave it to my neighbor the day before I left for Atlantis. I think my neighbor liked the cat more than me," Rodney says wistfully. "I mean, it wouldn't be a big deal except that I think my cat liked my neighbor more than me, too."

He feels bad for Rodney all of a sudden, but at the same time can't help wanting to laugh. Somehow it figures that Rodney cares more about how a cat feels about him than how another human being does.

"Got any family?" Rodney asks, then seems to consider his own question. "It's funny, after all this time, I still don't know the answer to that question."

John remembers talking to Teyla on the _Daedelus_ about family. Remembers how, almost as an afterthought, he added Rodney to his list of family members. He wasn't sure why he almost excluded the physicist, but leaving McKay out would have been unfair. And if John was really truthful with himself, he'd have to say he's really glad Rodney's with him right now.

Glad, but also a little confused Rodney doesn't know the answer to the question he just asked because he never thought to ask it before. Not that John ever minded. He enjoys his privacy, and it's one of the reasons why he and McKay actually get along. Rodney typically doesn't give a damn about people's personal lives, and that has always suited John fine. So why ask this now?

"Rodney? Is this your…way of keeping…me conscious?" he asks when he's hit with sudden insight.

"Well, actually, yeah. How's it working?" Rodney asks sheepishly.

"You want to…keep me alert…you…need to ask more…interestin' questions," John says, gasping on the words.

"Well, forgive me, Colonel. I've never really been good at the whole conversation thing," Rodney says peevishly.

"Didn't mean to…insult you…McKay," John says and blinks way too slowly. He's on the verge of falling asleep when Rodney pats his face yet again.

"God…damn it, Rodney!"

"Then stay awake," McKay says tersely, then snaps his fingers nervously and adds, "Ask me something."

"Wha'?" John asks, suddenly more confused than when he first woke up with half the ceiling on his chest.

"If you're so keen on discussing interesting questions, then I think it's up to you to ask me one," Rodney explains with a look of triumph.

For some reason he can't quite explain, John suddenly wants to smack the look off Rodney's face. He doesn't know where the anger has come from, but he supposes he's lucky his arms are pinned down because he's just angry enough to act on the impulse given half a chance.

But since he can't raise either arm, he pushes back the disorienting anger as well as he can and does as Rodney suggests.

"Ever…been arrested?"

The jubilant expression leaves Rodney's face, and he looks dumbstruck instead. John feels a thrill of pleasure at having caught the man off guard, but it lasts only for a second. Because then Rodney's looking cynical.

"Why, yes, as a matter of fact, on one occasion I was arrested after carousing around in a stolen car. The whole time I was intoxicated on bootleg liquor that I bought from a one-legged prostitute. Canadian Mounties caught me. I never knew those damn horses could run so fast," he says sarcastically, then changes his tune. "Of course I've never been arrested! I mean, not really. There was that one science project that brought the authorities out to my elementary school, but I was never arrested. I mean, what the hell do I do? Nothing, that's what!" 

John wants to assure Rodney that the physicist has done plenty of things most people would classify as being anything _but_ "nothing"—the least of those being his school project—but the ache in his head becomes a stabbing pain before he's able to tell McKay as much. And then John's talking, but he isn't exactly in charge of what he's saying. It's odd and confusing, and he doesn't know what's going on or why he's saying the words he is.

"You blew up a solar system," he says in a helpful tone that has him screaming on the inside because he doesn't want to bring up _that_ whole situation. Talking about Rodney's mishandling of the Ancient weapon is unconscionable now, when the man is one step away from outright hysteria and needs to know John trusts him.

So why _in the hell_ is he mentioning it? And why can't he control his own voice? And just how injured is he, anyway?

"Well, I should have expected you to bring that up again," Rodney says, huffing. "Seriously, could you please give me some indication as to when you're going to stop hanging that particular incident over my head, because the constant reminder of it is getting tedious."

He hasn't mentioned the incident with Rodney's ego and the Ancient weapon since it happened all those months ago; Rodney is as touchy about this subject as John imagined he would be. But suddenly, John doesn't think he can keep hold of his hard-earned prize of consciousness. Discomfort starts in the pit of his stomach where nausea begins to roil again, then it completely and effectively assaults him by highlighting the pain in his head. A moan slips out involuntarily from between his lips, but he doesn't hear it. All he hears is Rodney's continued litany of words, then a rushing sound that makes him dizzy. He falls and welcomes the insensate numbness.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N****: See the first chapter for Disclaimer! Then, enjoy!**

Closing Two Eyes – Chapter Two

John's eyes flutter closed, and the panic Rodney has been feeling up to this point spikes hard and heavy in his chest. But it's short-lived because then Sheppard's eyes flutter back _open_ and the man's breathing improves. Rodney doesn't even think about how odd it is that the man who up until a minute ago was breathing raggedly and painfully now seems able to draw breath easily. Maybe it's because a small part of his brain wants to believe his friend is going to be all right. Maybe it's because he's too afraid to think clearly. Regardless of the reason, though, it's a mistake not to wonder about the abrupt change in Sheppard's status.

It's a mistake, but Rodney doesn't realize that yet.

"Why should I let you forget about it, McKay?" Sheppard demands, and the words leave his mouth with a bitterness Rodney has rarely ever heard, and one that has never been directed at him. "It's your ego that almost got us killed then, and it's what's probably going to get me killed now. You couldn't wait until Ronon and I secured the place. You're always just a little too eager and willing to risk all our lives for some scientific curiosity."

"What in the hell are you talking about, Colonel?" Rodney asks sharply. The words hurt, but at the same time they're an affront. Especially since Sheppard was just as eager to search the palace and the one to command the team to split up so they could explore the large space quicker.

"I'm talking about your huge ego, McKay. How can you call yourself a genius when the simplest ideas go way over your head?" Sheppard's face expresses abject disgust.

Confusion washes over Rodney. "Are you sure you're all right, Sheppard?" he asks the fallen man concernedly. "You sure you didn't crack your head when you crashed to the floor?" Rodney leans forward to get a better look at the back of Sheppard's head, but the man moves away from him as well as he can given his current status of being pasted to the floor by a glazed mosaic ceiling.

"Don't you dare touch me!" John snarls, and there's a black, vicious look in the man's eyes that has Rodney stumbling backward and yelling into his radio again.

"Teyla! Teyla, are you still there?" he queries, as an obviously altered Sheppard begins to direct a continuous flow of obscenities at him. "Teyla! Something's really wrong with Colonel Sheppard! I think he's possessed," he yells even though Teyla has not yet acknowledged him.

"You shouldn't be here, you sanctimonious bastard!" Sheppard yells and fights against the weight that's pressing against his chest. Rodney is frightened by both the colonel's behavior and the fact he isn't registering any pain from his struggles. And although normally he doesn't want to see anyone in pain, Rodney's pretty sure it's bordering on a special type of weirdness when a man isn't fazed by cracked ribs being crushed into lung space.

"Colonel, please, you need to settle down," Rodney says, only to receive an almost animalistic growl from the man in return. "Sheppard—"

"Rodney?"

It's Teyla's voice, and Rodney hasn't heard anything quite so lovely in some time. "Teyla! Oh, thank god! Where the hell are you? Sheppard's really wigging out and—"

"Rodney, you must slow down. What has happened?" Teyla sounds amazingly calm.

Rodney feels a rush of irritation because it seems as if he's in this state of panic all on his own. Nevertheless, he forces himself to calm down and ignore the stream of cursing Sheppard has started up again. "The Colonel started acting weird a few minutes ago," Rodney says as slowly as his fear will allow him. "Where are you? We need to get Beckett here as soon as possible."

"Weird? What do you mean, Rodney?" Teyla asks, and her breathing quickens noticeably.

"Yelling and fighting! He's actually trying to pick a fight with me from under a ceiling!" His feeble composure's beginning to dissolve. "I'm afraid he's going to hurt himself."

"All right, Rodney. Try to keep Colonel Sheppard calm. Ronon and I are nearing the palace's gate and will notify Atlantis that we are in need of a medical team to care for the colonel. I will rendezvous with you as soon as I possibly can."

"Keep him calm! Are you kidding?" Rodney yells exasperatedly as he watches Sheppard continue to struggle and curse. "He's acting crazy, and there's no reasoning with him! I mean, I'm surprised he's not frothing at the mouth!"

"Rodney! You must do the best you can!" Teyla commands.

Rodney's been giving into his panic again. "Okay, okay, okay," he snaps angrily. "I'll do the best I can. But trust me when I say it's not going to be easy."

"Trust you! Trust _you!_" Sheppard roars as Teyla signs off the radio. "That's a laugh! No, not just a laugh! That's hysterical! Whoever the fuck is stupid enough to trust Doctor Rodney McKay and his bountiful ego deserves whatever the hell happens to them! Trust! Trust you! God damn it, get me out of here, and I'll _show_ you just how much I—"

John's tirade abruptly ends, and the man's eyes roll in their sockets. His breathing falters, and suddenly he's transformed from the frightening distortion of the man Rodney's grown to respect, into his familiar friend with a newly broken body.

"Rodney?" Sheppard breathes his name, and then he's unconscious again.

Rodney rushes forward and checks his pulse. He's still alive but weaker, and McKay can't help but wonder how badly Sheppard aggravated his injuries during his brief episode of insanity. He brushes a hand through the colonel's plaster-coated hair, and although he finds a little blood, there's no indication of a skull fracture. He takes a moment to contemplate that maybe the colonel has a concussion, and maybe such an injury could explain the bizarre behavior he just witnessed.

Rodney sits down heavily next to Sheppard, all the while maintaining his grasp on the colonel's wrist in an effort to both monitor the man's pulse and to preserve some sort of physical contact with him. He bows his head as he tries to make sense of this situation that has him reeling with fear and self-doubt. Sheppard's words of condemnation momentarily overwhelm Rodney's thoughts, and he feels the sharp edge of defeat press against him. For a little while now, he's been under the shaky impression he was winning back the colonel's trust after the disastrous blow it had taken from the Dorandan incident. And yet he now knows he was deluded in his supposition, because the colonel just made it clear, so painfully clear, that his trust in Rodney is well beyond repair.

The possibility of irreparable damage to their relationship is something Rodney, a man of many insecurities, worried about for weeks after Doranda. But he steadily moved away from such worries as time and consideration showed him Sheppard was open and willing to give Rodney a chance to redeem himself.

The disparity between what he, to this point, presumed and what Sheppard's rant showed him stimulates a cascade of quieter, more subtle thoughts. His reawakened insecurity drowns them out at first. But soon they're gaining momentum and becoming the most important thoughts Rodney has had in a while.

Because now, as Sheppard's hateful words continue to echo within the confines of Rodney's agile mind, there's a small, submerged part of him that can't help considering that something a little more strange, and possibly a lot more dangerous, is going on with Sheppard than what can be explained by a run-of-the-mill head wound.

A little more strange. And _a lot_ more dangerous.

oOo

John's vision is decidedly blurry when he opens his eyes, but he can see well enough to discern Rodney's stricken expression. When he clears his throat, which is coated with so much dust, it feels like desert sands, the sound of his waking draws Rodney's attention to him. And now, as the physicist leans over him, Sheppard can see that Rodney doesn't look so much unhappy as he does worried.

"Colonel? How are you feeling?" McKay asks, smiling in a way he probably thinks is reassuring but which just succeeds in freaking John way the hell out.

"What's…with the pearly…whites?" he asks in a rough whisper. His breathing is more labored now than it was the last time he was conscious, and he can't account for the change. Since any shifting around could worsen his injuries, he's been careful to just lie still. And as far as he recollects, there's no reason for the pain that has ratcheted up several notches since he was last aware.

"You okay?" Rodney asks, and now he's looking more concerned.

"Breathin's…worse," John responds. Rodney comes closer, and John feels the vague pressure of the other man's fingers on the pulse point in his right wrist.

"You must have exacerbated your injuries when you went all crazy earlier," Rodney mutters.

"Wh…what?" John asks dumbly.

"You don't remember?"

"What the…hell…are you talkin'...about?" John asks and draws in a breath that lies heavy and thick in his damaged lungs.

"You flew off the handle just a little while ago, Colonel," McKay explains in a bitter tone that has John wondering what the hell really happened. His confusion must be evident because Rodney apparently feels the need to clarify. "You know? Bonkers. Cuckoo. You were talking all sorts of nonsense."

"Nonsense? What…sorta nonsense?"

"Oh, well, let's see. Let's start with the swearing, and the fighting, and, oh, let's not forget you babbling on and on about how much you hate me." Rodney says the words quickly, but John can tell he's been hurt by whatever it was that happened.

"Rodney, I don't…remember. Must…be my head. I—"

"Oh, yeah, sure, that's what I thought at first," Rodney says. He bends his neck and rubs at his temples as if he's in pain. "But then I started getting the feeling that even if you were half out of your head, there was a part of you that really meant what you were saying."

"Rodney, I don't know—"

"This whole situation is completely FUBAR," Rodney says and then settles down against the nearest wall, while John feels a momentary stab of surprise that the physicist has been reduced to using the harsh military phrase.

"Rodney, what…what's—"

"Never mind, I need to sleep," Rodney mutters. Since he's trapped beneath the ceiling rubble, John can barely see Rodney from where he is sitting slumped against the dusty, ornate wall. The dim light also does nothing to illuminate the room or the situation, but John can see Rodney's eyes flicker closed for a moment.

It's a quiet moment, and one in which he has time to think something is really wrong. John feels a vague misapprehension and a hazy feeling of being out of control. He's wondering what it all means when suddenly Rodney is awake and staring too intently into his eyes.

oOo

Rodney's really not sure what the hell is happening, because one moment he was watching over Sheppard, and now he's a passenger in his own body. He's staring down at Sheppard and can feel an odd sort of smirk passing over his face, but he's not the one doing it. There's no way he would be taunting a so-obviously distressed Colonel Sheppard, but that's exactly what he's doing.

"Rodney? You…you okay?" Sheppard stutters the words out in halting puffs of air, and his eyes are turning dark and concerned.

Rodney wants to say, no, he absolutely isn't okay, but instead he involuntarily shouts something unintelligible.

"Rodney?" Sheppard asks weakly, obviously working off his last reserves.

And that's when Rodney feels an inexplicable upwelling of anger, but he's completely helpless to do anything but act on it.

The fury is unreasonable because something is obviously wrong with Sheppard. That's why he was acting so uncharacteristically before. Rodney figures that given the situation with the ceiling on his chest and all, Sheppard has every right to be a little cranky, so it's okay the man acted so poorly, even though it was a painful display. But it's not okay Rodney's feeling as he is right now, because there's definitely _nothing_ wrong with him.

Nothing, that is, except that he apparently has absolutely no control over his own actions.

So when his hand snakes out and grabs a shard of colorful but sharp-edged tile, and when the same traitorous hand reaches toward one of Sheppard's barely exposed hands and slices down, Rodney is screaming in his head.

Sheppard's eyes widen with pain and dismay, and Rodney's silent scream surges up through his throat and issues out from between his lips. But it's not a scream that resounds through the tall and decorous room. To Rodney's utter horror, it's hideous laughter that drives hard from his throat.

"Rodney? Wha—" Sheppard asks, his breathing fast and panicked.

"Always have to be such a hotshot, don't you, Sheppard?" Rodney hears himself snarl, and he has no idea where the words are coming from. All he's aware of, all he's keenly aware of, is that he's completely powerless to stop whatever it is he's currently doing.

Powerless to stop the repulsive words he says to one of the few friends he's ever had. Powerless to stop from moving to Sheppard's exposed right hand and bending three fingers back until they pop and break. Powerless to keep from grinning inanely when he hears Sheppard moan in pain, or to stop slicing down and drawing more blood from his other hand.

Rodney sees the blood well and hears the drip, drip, drip as red pearls patter onto the elaborately decorated floor. He's horrified and wants to scream again, but what escapes him is more gleeful laughter.

"Rodney, please." Sheppard's pained words halt whatever it is that has taken over Rodney's body, and he's able to hold the shard of razor-sharp tile away from the bloody work he's already accomplished. "Rodney…something's wrong…w...with us," the colonel says.

_No shit_, Rodney thinks. He's not a religious man, but he suddenly wishes he was because then he'd seriously consider doing an exorcism on himself.

The distant pain that has been plaguing him a while practically skewers him now. He almost falls over from it, but he doesn't mind it all too much because with its presence he's able to pull the makeshift weapon in his hand away from Sheppard's flesh. It takes him a moment to recover, but then he's sitting up and making a voluntary move toward Sheppard's face.

The colonel is looking the worse for wear, and for the first time, Rodney sees a faint shade of blue discoloring the skin around the injured man's mouth.

"You all right, Colonel?" Rodney asks, and feels like he's close to the edge of some precipice where sanity no longer exists.

"I…think something's wrong," John says, and passes out again.

As quiet yet important cascades of thought free themselves in Rodney's mind, he finds he can't agree more. He checks Sheppard's increasingly weak pulse and can't help but study his bloody handiwork. The cuts on the colonel's hands are shallow, but they're bleeding freely. And as Sheppard's right hand starts to quickly swell around the broken fingers, something in Rodney begins to shatter with the thought of how much additional pain he's just put his friend through.

Why do opulent buildings crack and fall, and why do trusted protectors abandon him during his work? Do injuries cause insanity or does insanity cause injuries? He's not sure what is happening or what will happen, but he knows he's a danger now to Sheppard. As dangerous as or more so than the injuries from which the man is currently suffering, and Rodney doesn't really want to find out which is the case.

Instead, he opts to leave Sheppard as safe as he possibly can be in the current situation. Opts to leave in order to keep from doing more harm. Opts to leave, and begins to do so, but fails when the pain in his head returns, and he collapses to the cool, marbled floor.

He's unconscious before his face smashes into the patina of dust coating the fancy surface, and he's still unconscious and lying there when the Atlantis rescue team finds him some minutes later.

oOo

The all-too-familiar sounds and scents of the Atlantis infirmary surround Rodney as he wakes. When his eyes open and eventually clear, he's shocked to see that practically every bed in the infirmary is occupied by an Atlantis inhabitant. Even Beckett is being checked out by one of his own nurses, and he doesn't exactly look happy about the situation, despite the nurse's broad and amused smile.

Carson glances over at Rodney and shuffles off the bed he's been sitting on.

"I'm all right, lass," the doctor says grumpily as he shrugs off the nurse, who is protesting his behavior.

The nurse looks less than satisfied but gives up the struggle anyway.

"How are you doing, Rodney?" Beckett asks as he settles beside McKay and begins monitoring his pulse. For the first time, Rodney notices there's a bandage on the left side of the other man's forehead, and his right eye is very obviously blackened.

"What the hell happened to you?" Rodney asks, ignoring Carson's question. His voice sounds hoarse, and he wonders how long he's been unconscious.

"Long story," Carson says, and smiles self-consciously. "Let's check you out, then I'll explain as much as I know."

At first, he doesn't resist when Carson begins his exam. But then, as he looks around again at all the people lying in infirmary beds in various states of injury, Rodney pulls the shreds of his injured dignity together and acts accordingly for the first time since waking up.

"No, why don't you tell me what the hell happened, right now?" he demands, pulling away from Beckett. "Because it looks like something really important is going on, and I have the idea you're going to need my brain to help you out. Heaven knows there's no one else in this galaxy who seems able to pull our asses out of trouble as well as I can. So why don't you—"

The words die on his lips as they remind him of Sheppard's earlier ruthless criticism, and Rodney searches desperately for any sign of the man. "Where's Sheppard?" he asks, and feels the blood drain from his face when Beckett sighs heavily and pulls the stethoscope away.

"He's going to be all right, Rodney. He was injured pretty badly in the fall, and it's going to be some time before he's able to move about."

"Where is he? I want to see him," Rodney insists, but there's an especially familiar glint of warning in Carson's eyes.

"You've just been through an ordeal, Rodney, and I need to check you out. Then give me a moment to explain what happened before you go barging in on the colonel. He's fine for now, so you might as well let me have my way. And don't give me any of your lip or else I'll use the restraints."

"You wouldn't!" Rodney yells, offended.

"I would and you know it," Carson says in return.

And Rodney does know it, so he surrenders, albeit reluctantly and with more than a little bit to say about it.

oOo

Elizabeth and Teyla find him a little while later, and they're actually the ones who explain what happened.

"Nanobots." Elizabeth says the word grimly, and Rodney feels both angry and scared at the same time.

"I'm really starting to hate those things," he grumbles.

"Apparently, the late inhabitants of the planet you visited had a long-standing feud with the Ancients," Elizabeth says with an understanding smile. "They developed nanotechnology that specifically targeted individuals with the Ancient gene. The nanobots play around with brain function, although Carson isn't quite sure what exactly they were programmed to do."

"Drive everyone around them nuts is my first guess," Rodney says, considering how crazy Sheppard acted. But as he says the words, another thought niggles at him. He ignores it for the moment.

"I would have to agree, Rodney," Teyla says with a calm smile. "Shortly after the rescue team entered the palace, personnel who possessed the Ancient gene began acting strangely. It was a struggle to regain control, as they had become quite violent. Luckily, Doctor Zelenka was on the team as well, and he quickly determined the cause of the strange behavior."

"Great, now I suppose I'll never hear the end of how he saved my life," Rodney says, groaning. "Please tell me you zapped us with an EMP, and I don't have crazy robot bugs floating around in my brain anymore."

"They were never in your brain, Rodney," Carson says, stepping up behind the two women. "They were just in your bloodstream wreaking havoc on brain function through biochemical manipulation. Chances are the people who designed the technology never found a way to directly cross the blood-brain barrier, so this was the next best answer. Good thing, though, because having a bunch of dead robots in your brain isn't exactly healthy. The ones remaining in your bloodstream will eventually be excreted from your body, and I don't foresee them causing any further damage."

"Nice shiner you've got there, Carson," Rodney says with a smirk. He can't help himself. Carson's acting way too chipper.

"Yes, well, um, I was affected, too," Carson says awkwardly, and Rodney's pleased to see the doctor's too-bright expression dim a bit.

The niggling thought from before turns into an almost-memory of blood and sharp ceramic, and Rodney is suddenly worried about Sheppard again. "Where's the colonel? Can I see him now that you've all had your way with me?" Rodney asks. He's trying to sound snarky and offhanded, but the attempt falls flat when he hears the anxiety in his voice swelling.

"Rodney, about the colonel—" Carson begins, obviously upset, but he's interrupted by Elizabeth.

"Why don't you both go check on Ronon and let me talk to Rodney alone for a while?" she asks Teyla and Carson, but it's obvious to them all her words are more command than suggestion.

Teyla bows her head in graceful assent, and, although Carson looks as if he's about to argue, he eventually leaves after a pointed look from Elizabeth.

"What's the matter with him?" Rodney asks once the two of them are as alone as they are going to be in the crowded infirmary.

"Rodney, when we found Colonel Sheppard, he was seriously injured. He had several broken ribs, a fractured sternum, and a slight concussion, all which were most likely caused by the fall. But in addition to these injuries, he had numerous shallow stab wounds as well as three broken fingers," Elizabeth says evenly, then adds, "Obviously, Carson can't be sure these minor injuries weren't also caused by the fall. But they were located relatively far from the other injuries on the Colonel's body, and given the situation with the nanobots as well as the state in which the search team found you, well, there's some question as to how those injuries were actually sustained."

Elizabeth's voice drifts off, and Rodney is left with an unclear feeling of foreboding. "What? What are you saying?" he asks in a tone of voice that sounds irritated but that actually stems from growing apprehension.

Elizabeth says nothing, but the strong and even gaze that she shares with Rodney is enough for comprehension to fully wend its way into his consciousness.

A rush of sudden shame forces Rodney to close his eyes so he doesn't have to look at Elizabeth anymore. "I hurt him," he whispers the words, and almost can't believe he's saying them. And yet, as he speaks of unimaginable betrayal, his unclear memories begin to focus. His hands tingle with the vague sensation of something cool and slick and razor-sharp pressed against resisting flesh, a shard of something that is at once innocuous and dangerous, and which is held tightly within his shaking grasp. He recollects a surge of anger that rivals lunacy and shudders in reaction.

"It looks as if that's what happened, yes," Elizabeth says. She puts a soothing hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs it off.

"I hurt him," Rodney says again, this time even softer. He doesn't want to believe what he's saying, but awful memories and the honesty of Elizabeth's words are making it hard for him to ignore the truth.

"Rodney, it wasn't your fault. John understands, I'm sure--" Elizabeth says. She tries to offer comfort again, but Rodney won't allow it.

Instead, he turns his back to her and shrinks away from her touch. "Tell it to someone who didn't just hurt their best friend," Rodney says and presses his eyes closed.

oOo

Rodney's still feeling a little weak and dizzy when Carson says he can visit Sheppard, so he's forced to sit in a wheelchair that is subsequently pushed by a kind-looking nurse. Of all those infected with this newest nanotechnology, only he seems to be affected by residual weakness, and Beckett thinks that has something to do with the length of time the 'bots were in his bloodstream. More than likely, Carson hypothesizes, Rodney's immune system started defending his body, and that's causing him to feel flu-like aches and fatigue.

Rodney doesn't really give a shit about explanations. He just wants to see his friend.

His chair is pushed to the farthest edge of the infirmary and around a set of curtains, behind which Sheppard is lying deathly still on a bed. Rodney is so shocked by the man's appearance that he doesn't even notice when the nurse pats his arm and leaves.

In addition to the expected tubes and needles inserted into Sheppard's skin, he also has an oxygen mask firmly settled on his face. He looks too thin and drawn, and there are lines of pain around his mouth and closed eyes that make Rodney nervous. His breathing is shallow and unsteady, but the oxygen is helping, and he's going to be fine. At least, that's what Beckett keeps telling Rodney.

Pneumonia has begun to settle in the colonel's lungs, but Carson has the sick man pumped so full of antibiotics now that he's probably going to be nauseated for weeks. The doctor's hopeful the heavy doses of medication will keep the bacteria at bay.

Rodney looks to where Sheppard's hands are lying under the blanket, and knows the fingers on the right one are splinted. Memory flashes of healthy digits that shift and burst in his hand as he pulls and pulls and pulls, has Rodney practically gagging.

Sheppard coughs hard, and although the sound is muffled by the oxygen mask, there is no doubt it's terribly painful. His eyes press even more tightly shut, and then the man struggles to sit up. Without thinking, Rodney stands and is at his side, helping him into a position more conducive to coughing up a lung.

Sheppard calms, and Rodney stands back. John wipes his bandaged left hand over his face, and Rodney remembers the blood he made well up there. Suddenly, he is extremely fatigued and wants to sit down.

"Th…thanks," Sheppard says before Rodney can return to his wheelchair. The man opens his eyes, and Rodney wants to weep when he sees his friend cringe at his presence. The motion is brief, and Sheppard recovers quickly, but it hurts.

Defeated, Rodney stumbles to the wheelchair and almost turns it over in his haste to sit down.

"Rodney, hey," Sheppard says, and his voice is just a whisper of breath barely audible from beneath the oxygen mask.

Rodney sits in the wheelchair and quietly panics over what to say. He can't seem to meet Sheppard's gaze and, instead, with the same intensity with which he would study warp engines, examines the not-quite-red fabric of the infirmary scrubs he's wearing.

"Rodney, hey," Sheppard repeats, and Rodney can practically hear concern oozing out of the man's pores. "Rodney, it's—"

"Don't you dare say it's okay," Rodney says harshly. "Because it's not. It's not okay. How can you say it's okay when I _hurt_ you?"

"Rodney—"

"I hurt you, Sheppard. I cut up your hands, and when that wasn't enough, I broke your fingers. How in the hell can you even suggest that's okay?!" Rodney is yelling, and somehow he ends up standing again. Somewhere in the unimportant distance, there's a flurry of nervous activity. Sheppard makes a weak placating motion with his bandaged hand to someone who's apparently peeking around the screen, then pulls the oxygen mask to the side of his face so he can talk clearly.

"You weren't the only one affected, Rodney. Don't forget that. And maybe I don't have a clear memory of what happened, but I remember enough to know I had no control over what I was doing or saying," Sheppard says in a breathy whisper. He fiercely clenches his jaw as he seems to struggle with what he wants to say next. "And just be happy I was trapped under a ceiling, because I have the feeling that if I would've been let loose, I would have done more to you than bleed you a little." The words are blurted out, and Rodney is temporarily shocked into silence.

After a while, when he finds his voice again, it's high-pitched and shaky. "Really?"

"Yes, Rodney. Really," Sheppard says. John closes his eyes, and Rodney watches him try to draw in deeper breaths. Hesitantly, he reaches over and gently replaces the mask over Sheppard's face. Sheppard opens his eyes and looks at Rodney with gratitude.

"What else do you remember?" Rodney asks. "I-I mean, it's just that I don't remember much. Just being angry with you."

"Same thing," Sheppard says, and his voice sounds strange coming from beneath the mask. "I think I may have said some…things, too. You know? To you. I just remember wanting to hurt you, and when I couldn't get free from the debris, I think I might have said some…stuff."

Rodney remembers the pain of Sheppard's fevered accusations and still can't manage to get over it despite knowing the words were caused by crazy miniature robots rooting around in his friend's brain.

"It wasn't important," he says around a dry mouth.

Sheppard doesn't look as though he believes him. "I'm sorry," he says, appearing exhausted. "I didn't mean to hurt you, McKay."

Rodney wants to deny that Sheppard actually did hurt him. It's an old defense mechanism, and he struggles against it for a moment before saying, "Yeah. I'm sorry, too."

Sheppard looks uncomfortable, not just physically but with the conversation, as well. Talk stalls as they find themselves stuck in the quagmire of an awkward moment.

"Listen, Rodney, can we just do the manly thing and agree the whole situation was fucked up and go along as if nothing really happened?" Sheppard asks, breaking the ringing silence. Rodney is grateful for the return of words as well as for the suggestion that offers them both an easy out.

"Yeah, yeah. Sounds good to me," he says eagerly. "I mean, you're right, nothing really did happen. Well, actually, _we_ really didn't do anything, at least not to each other. I mean, the nanobots, well, I say we blame it all on them."

"Damn nanobots," Sheppard says, and looks decidedly more relaxed. "I'm really starting to hate those things."

"That's exactly what I said when I found out about them," Rodney says.

"Hey, did they cause the glitch in the Ancient technology, too?" Sheppard asks, abruptly tense again. "I mean, what if those damn things contaminated the equipment we brought back? Couldn't that be a problem?"

"They didn't cause the issues with the technology," Rodney says, shaking his head. He's pleased to see Sheppard relax a bit. "The problems were caused by a signal emanating from somewhere in the palace. If the inhabitants of the planet were in a long-standing cold war with the Ancients, it would be reasonable to think they were just paranoid enough to want to screw around with any Ancient technology that was 'misplaced' by visiting Ancient diplomats. You know, bugs and all that other spy stuff. The signal was easily counteracted. Well, at least it was for me since, you know, I'm a genius and all."

His offhanded comment brings back Sheppard's hateful words before Rodney remembers they've agreed to do the "manly" thing. He makes a concerted attempt to brush off his discomfort.

"You remember that? The problem with the technology?" he asks, hoping to hide his embarrassment. Sheppard is shrewdly looking at him; Rodney's discomfiture has not been missed. "It's just that I wouldn't have expected you to remember that, what with you acting weird practically from the moment we stepped out of the gate."

"I didn't remember, but Carson mentioned the tech problems to me. He also said I was the most affected by the nanobots because my Ancient gene is the strongest," John says with typical snark and a mischievous waggle of his eyebrows.

"Yeah, well, my brain's stronger than yours," Rodney says, automatically responding to the invitation for comfortable banter.

"One word, Rodney. Mensa," Sheppard says with another eyebrow waggle.

"Meaningless. Just because you passed a Mensa test doesn't mean that your brain can take on mine. C'mon. Let's try it. Let's do it. My brain will have your brain crying for its momma within minutes. No, seconds. That's right! In seconds, it'll be begging for mercy!"

Sheppard laughs, then coughs. After he's able to catch his breath again, he leans back looking weary but happy.

"I'd better go. Gotta rest up for the big brain battle. I'm in training, you know," Rodney says.

Sheppard is fast becoming too exhausted to maintain his end of the conversation. "Okay. See you later, Rodney," he says, then chuckles and coughs again.

Rodney turns the wheelchair around and is almost out from behind the curtains when Sheppard clears his throat and speaks.

"Rodney, if I didn't trust you, you wouldn't be on my team," he says solemnly to McKay's back.

Rodney's head involuntarily ducks as he feels true relief and forgiveness wash over him. "I wouldn't be on your team if I didn't trust you either, Colonel," he replies, without turning. He hears Sheppard draw in a shaky but comforted breath, then smiles as he returns to the bustle of the crowded infirmary.


End file.
